Colorblind
by thegirlofthoughts
Summary: She was the girl with the red mask. He didn't know what that meant, but he intended to find out. His curiosity might just take him to a place he never expected nor wanted to go though. Karl Fink may have just stumbled upon something that was never meant to be found. One-shot. (For BasketballQueen's OC Costume Challenge).


**So! This story is for BasketballQueen's OC Halloween Costume Challenge. And...I don't know. This story literally just came out of nowhere. I have no explanation.**

 **It's obviously pretty dark. But it is for Halloween. And come on. It's me we're talking about. I do love the symbolism and stuff. And just for clarification, the end was referring to further dark stuff, like insanity or torture. You'll understand.**

 **This is from Karl Fink's pov, and my OC is the girl (you'll find out her name at the end #nospoilers). This is after the whole "Avery kissing Karl" thing, but I don't know the exact placement in the show's story.**

 **Anyway, hope you like it!**

* * *

I had thought it was Avery Jennings.

I still don't see how my superior mind had been so easily fooled. Maybe it was the fact that it kept drifting to…

No, Karl. That kiss had been horrible. Plus, it was only an experiment. That had failed. Don't read too much into that silly gesture. Focus, Fink.

But no, Avery had dressed as Alice from Alice in Wonderland for Halloween.

So, I had a dilemma. A question.

Who was the girl in the red mask?

Who was the girl dressed all in white?

Who was the girl with snow hair and moon skin?

Who was the girl who wore a silver crown and a ring with a crystal perched on it?

Who was the girl with the lightest blue eyes I had ever seen?

Who was the girl with no words?

Who was the girl who was a bloodstain on a brand new piece of paper?

Who was the girl who danced with me?

For several days after the Halloween Masquerade Dance, I had been almost unhealthily obsessed with finding out the identity of my mystery partner. It didn't seem to be anyone at school. So how had she gotten into the dance? Surely she hadn't been asked by someone else and had somehow become separated with them.

I went through all possible suspects. Like I said, I had thought it was Avery trying to prank me or send me a message by hiding herself behind a costume, dyed hair, contact lenses, and make-up. But she was Alice all night. Lindsay had been the Mad Hatter, Max had been the Queen of Hearts, and I had been the rabbit. Everyone else had either not been there or had been something else.

I had reached a road block and reluctantly given up. But tonight was the dance again. I hoped to meet my mystery girl there. And I had full intentions of learning as much as I possibly could about her.

I saw her as soon as I got there. I was dressed as a stereotypical scientist. She wore the same attire as she had previously, only inverted. Everything she wore was red, even her hair and presumably her eyes. All except her mask, which was white. She was a clean, perfect piece of paper floating untainted in a pool of blood.

She was standing next to the punch bowl, pouring herself a drink. I couldn't shake the feeling of surrealism. I strode over to her. Just as I was getting beside her, though, she turned toward me. Her cup knocked into my chest, and the contents spilled all over my lab coat.

Immediately, she started dabbing at my costume with a white napkin she had been holding in her other hand. When she stopped, my coat nowhere near clean, she looked up. She had sun-kissed skin. Her eyes were indeed red.

Suddenly, she brushed past me, leaving me fumbling to catch the floating napkin. I whirled around, and "Wait!" slipped out of my mouth before I could think. But she had disappeared into a sea of students.

I looked down at my stained lab coat and noticed the napkin in my hands. Some of it was red from the punch, but I could still make out a website address written in black ink. This had all been planned.

I didn't stay for the rest of the dance. I immediately went home and looked up the website on my computer.

It was a webpage for a "haunted site" in Pasadena. A cemetery. And right there, at the top of the page, was a picture.

It was her.

She was dressed in all black. And of course, she had midnight hair and the darkest eyes I had ever seen. Her skin was ashen.

I read through the entire article about her. The legend around her was that she had been an artist, but she had mainly loved expressing herself through her appearance. She had had all kinds of dresses, accessories, outfits, etc. of all colors and styles. There was even a little table at the bottom explaining what she was feeling when she wore this or that.

I scanned it. All white with a red mask meant that she felt innocence but was looking for love. All red with a white mask meant that she was feeling love but was looking with innocence. All black meant death.

She had died wearing that outfit.

On Halloween.

The article said that that was when she appeared, often wearing all white with a red mask. Since she had never found love in life, she was still searching for it in death. It said that this was the "first stage." And, of course, the second stage was all red with a white mask. She had found love.

In me?

I continued reading, becoming more and more intrigued and shocked by the minute. This girl was certainly an interesting child. She was a lot like me actually. Lonely, introverted, genius, unloved. But there were some differences. She was very artistic, very emotional. One very interesting thing I found was that she was considered insane, psychopathic. "Mentally quirky," as I like to call it. She seemed like she could have been a cold-blooded killer.

I rubbed my eyes. I had spent too much time reading on a screen. I powered down the monitor.

And jumped.

There she was. Standing right behind me. Her reflection was dark on the black screen. But I could still tell what colors she was wearing.

All red.

No white mask. Completely red. I knew what that meant.

She was feeling love. And she was looking with love.

No more innocence.

Katherine Jennings no longer wanted to play nice.


End file.
